The Indifferent Horizon
by zuzuthezombie
Summary: "... something I think I should share with you all: I have a pet!" A birthday present for vampioregirl over on Tumblr. Mock episode.


Sometime in the future you will see yourself as a black spot on a black page. _Welcome… to Night Vale._

Good evening, listeners! I have some interesting news to share with you today! You all know the rather small city of Blackbird, right on the edge of the sand wastes, near Radon Canyon? Well, their radio station called me a few hours ago with something I think I ought to share with you all: I have a pet! I had not previously known I owned a pet, apart from my dog, Cerberus. The hosts, Genevieve and Sophia, informed me that it is a large gelatinous monster that eats nearly everything it sees, and it has a tag that reads: 'Property of Cecil'. It was found in the hayloft of a barn on the edge of Old Blackbird. The monster, along with all of the former owner's possessions, will be sold in an estate sale. The Jell-o monster will be selling for 3,000 Pestulas.

Now listeners, even if I did not know I owned this pet, I still have a soft spot for this creature, whom I have just named Ethel. I do not have 3,000 Pestulas just lying around, so listeners, if you could please donate to the cause? I have set up a donation box in our radio station's lobby, as well as a place to donate on our website: www dot nvcr dot com. I feel terrible about asking all you lovely citizens for money, but I would love to meet Ethel for the first time.

In other news, _Steve Carlsberg _was seen being friendly to the Apache Tracker, who, if you didn't know, is the white guy who always wears an extremely racist Native American headdress, and is, overall, just a real racist _jerk. _In fact Steve Carlsberg and the Tracker are _both _jerks, but the Apache Tracker is also a racist embarrassment to the town. He claims to know how to use 'ancient Indian magicks', which, of course, _aren't real._

And now, a word from our sponsors!

Screams of children echo in your ears. A glowing orb sits on a metal table in front of you. It does not give off heat, but instead sucks it in. [What is your name?] A voice asks, and you realize that you do not know. This fills you with a calm you have never felt before. You can feel the room getting colder and colder. The orb glows brighter and brighter… This message has been brought to you by Starbucks!

An update on the story of Ethel: Genevieve texted me during the break and informed me that it is a few blocks from their very own Blackbird Public Radio Station, and is attempting to eat a semi by absorbing it. It has already devoured the five workmen who found her. So far we have received 173 Pestulas toward my- no, _our _cause, for I feel that Ethel will be a great addition to our town!

Now, let's talk about something important: tattoo care. After you get one, it is important to eat more meat than you normally do. Red meat works best. John Peters, y'know, the farmer? Well, _he _sells pretty good imaginary beef at the Green Market. The best way to take care of your new tattoos, though, would be to put the beef – or whatever type of red protein you've chosen – and apply it directly to the design. Next, wrap it up in a bandage. I know some people who've gotten tattoos, and so I can safely say that this method works grea- … Oh. What's this?

This time it's Sophia that has texted me, and she says that Ethel is now _inside their lobby_ and has eaten Receptionist Jordan! They could tell by the screams that being eaten by her is very very painful, although I don't quite know how being enveloped in Jell-o would hurt all that much. Perhaps she has some kind of acid? Well now, I should probably calm down, hm listeners? I shouldn't judge things when I've never even met them, especially not gigantic goo creatures!

Oh, oh my, listeners… Ethel is now traveling the BPR building, eating Interns, other radio personalities, desks… even part of a wall. Sophia and Genevieve are huddled in their booth, hoping that the soundproofed walls will stop my pet. When we receive enough Pestulas – which is now up to 542 – and I get to meet her, I will train her to _not eat people_.

Ethel, if you're listening to this, please know that it is _very rude to eat human beings_. The vote to legalize cannibalism is still standing, and until it gets passed, if ever, please be considerate to your friendly neighborhood cannibals and don't eat humans when they can't, even if _you_ aren't. Ethel, you are turning out to be a very naughty pet already. But, back to Genevieve and Sophia. If _anyone _could try to help them, I'd be grateful. They seem like very nice people, and I do like other radio hosts. Except for the one from Desert Bluffs. I've never listened to their radio show, but I'm sure it and the host are terrible, as is the rest of Desert Bluffs. Just _terrible_.

Now it's time for a message that Station Management just shot out from under their door. It reads as follows: '_Cecil, we do not always approve of your choice of music for the weather. _

_1. Secure an egg to your foot with plastic wrap._

_2. Dip your non-pen in egg white, and start writing on a piece of paper. An egg will appear, your non-pen shoved all the way through it._

_3. Panic and smash the egg, then dump a gallon of milk over the whole thing. _

_4. Smash more eggs over the mess, and angrily crumple up your paper, tossing it aside._

_5. A guitar will appear on the counter in front of you. When you grab it, you will be teleported to the bathroom, where you must beat the open toilet bowl with it._

_6. Smash handfuls of the watermelon that is under your guitar over it, destroying the instrument further. _

_7. Put the seat down over it._

_8. Strum the guitar._

_This is the type of music we are looking for, Cecil._

- _Station Management'_

Well now. I don't have time to do that _today_, but for tomorrow's weather I'll try. I don't want Station Management coming out of their office again, now do I? Or worse, _re-education at City Hall_.

Oh dear. I probably shouldn't have said that. I think it'd be best if I brought you to… _the weather_.

Jan lays down and wrestles in her sleep

Moonlight spills on comic books 

And superstars in magazines

An old friend calls and tells us where to meet

Her plane takes off from Baltimore

And touches down on Bourbon Street

/

We sit outside and argue all night long

About a god we've never seen 

But never fails to side with me

Sunday comes and all the papers say

Ma Theresa's joined the mob

And happy with her full time job

/

Am I alive or thoughts that drift away?

Does summer come for everyone?

Can humans do as prophets say?

And if I die before I learn to speak

Can money pay for all the days I lived awake

But half asleep?

/

A life is time, they teach us growing up

The seconds ticking killed us all

A million years before the fall

You ride the waves and don't ask where they go

You swim like lions through the crest

And bathe yourself in zebra flesh

/

I've been downhearted baby

Ever since the day we met

Ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon, guess who texted me during the weather? I'll give you a clue: he wears a labcoat, and works next to Big Rico's. Okay. It was Carlos! Now, it wasn't for personal reasons, but he said that he needed to come over here now to tell my audience something. Who am I to deny beautiful, perfect Carlos? Oh! Intern Cooper just pointed down the hall! _Carlos is here!_

Hi!

**Hello, Cecil. I need to tell your listeners something important; I hope you don't mind me coming here. **

Of course not! What do you need to tell them? Here.

**Thanks. First of all, Cecil, when did Genevieve or Sophia text you last?**

About… six minutes or so. Why?

**Well I was listening to their show after hearing something about them on here; I can get their signal, but just barely, it's fuzzy. Anyway, what I think they were saying is that the monster can't penetrate recording booths for some reason, and that it moves amazingly fast for a thing its viscosity and size. Apparently their receptionist, Jordan, threw his coffee at it when it came in the door. It ate away at it, and that's why it absorbed Jordan in the first place, or so says the intern that was huddled in their booth with them. **

Go on…

**So, after figuring out that it couldn't actually eat anyone else in the station, it supposedly left the town and is heading for Night Vale. I'm still not sure how they know this, though… **

Is that all you had to tell me? If so, you could have just texted me all that, couldn't you? I mean… I wouldn't give up a chance to hear your glorious voice, of course!

**… Uh, well, what I wanted to say is that anyone listening to this should collect as much liquid coffee as they can – I don't know if grounds or beans would work, but best not to test it - and surround as much of the city as they can, but concentrating on the side closest to Blackbird. When the monster comes, they'll throw their coffee at it, and, hopefully, kill it. I know it's apparently your pet, Cecil, but I think maybe someone is trying to hurt you.**

Carlos! Don't kill Ethel!

**Ethel? You named it…? Never mind that, it's going to keep eating things and people. Cecil, what if it eats ****_you?_**

I… alright, Carlos. You heard him, listeners. Please find as much liquid coffee as you can, and form a circle around our town. When, or if, you see my pet, burn it _**Tod**_with your coffee and kill her.

And now, it's time for a word from our sponsors.

Parents, it's important to know what kind of diapers work best for your child. Cloth, or disposable? The Night Vale Department of Public Safety recommends Puffs: soft, trustworthy protection for your offspring! Be careful not to let them in water, though, or they'll balloon like a puffer fish. Watch out for the spikes!

My dear, dear, lovely listeners, I have something wonderful to tell you all! Today is a very special occasion! We are celebrating Amelia's birthday today! Amelia, if you're listening to this, I hope you have the best day _ever! _I've sent you something! The Secret Policewoman who is outside your window at this very moment has it. I hope you like it!

Ah. But, right now, the time for celebration is coming to an end. Finish unwrapping your gifts, Amelia, eat the last of your imaginary chocolate cake from the Moonlite All-Nite Diner, your favorite, and rest your head down on your pillow. Let my voice bring you into the warmth and safety of sleep. The thing under your bed will keep you safe.

Ethel is gone, and cannot eat you.

The Sheriff's Secret Police are watching you.

All is well, listeners. Amelia. All is well.

So goodnight, my beautiful Night Vale…

_Goodnight._

**_Today's weather is Standing By A Broken Phonebooth With Money In My Hand, by Primitive Radio Gods. The slashes were the only way to format the lyrics. This was a birthday present for the wonderful vampioregirl over on Tumblr. You should all go follow her and wish her a happy birthday! ~ |: zuzu_**


End file.
